Jermy, Marie - Together Forever [The Andersons 1] (Siren Publishing Classic) (25 page)

Wham! Something solid slammed into Ross’s back, knocking him into Jessica and causing the Beretta to fly from her hand. It came to rest under a glass-topped hall table. Just as he turned to glare at the culprit—his backpack, no less—an icy fist punched him in the jaw.

“Is that all you’ve got?” he taunted Harknett when he hovered into view. “Come on. Put some effort into it.”

If ever there was a time Ross wished he’d kept his mouth shut, it was then. Because no sooner had the challenge left his mouth than Harknett grabbed Jessica by the shoulders and threw her across the foyer as if she weighed no more than air. She landed against the front door with a bone-jarring thud.

Overtaken by rage, Ross lunged at Harknett, but, of course, there was nothing solid for his fists to strike. How the hell do you fight a ghost? He would have liked the time to come up with an answer, but Harknett had other ideas.

“Ready to die, moron?”

Ross didn’t care for Harknett’s choice of insult. He’d only allowed Jessica to call him that. He cared even less when Harknett sank one hand straight into his guts and began twisting his insides. Christ! The pain was excruciating. Every bone, every muscle, every vein, every nerve, every cell felt as though they were on the verge of combusting.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jessica rising to her feet and stagger drunkenly over to where the Beretta lay. He knew then what a crap choice she had to make. Shoot and kill them both. Or not shoot and he’s dead anyway. Oh, well, he had said he would protect her life with his own if needed. “Yeah? Get ready to join me, prick! Do it, Jessica!” he commanded. “Pull the trigger!”

Fangs of blackness clawed his throat.
This is it,
Ross thought as his lungs fought for air that wasn’t there and his heart rate slowed. Strangely, he felt no fear, just sadness that he hadn’t gotten the chance to say good-bye to his family.

A quiet calm settled over Ross as he stared through Harknett’s evil face at Jessica.
I love you. Together forever.
He winked and smiled when she dumbly nodded, closed her eyes, and pulled the trigger.

Then, in a blast of hot, white light, some unyielding, icy force barreled into Ross’s side and sent him flying. His head struck the staircase, and a thousand stars exploded.

Chapter 16

Jessica didn’t want to watch Ross die, but something wasn’t right. It was quiet, eerily so. She opened her eyes. What the…! Harknett had vanished, presumably obliterated into hell. Ross lay on his back at the foot of the staircase. And sprawled beside him was Scott Rafferty.

The Beretta still in her hand, she rushed over just as Rafferty sat up, clutching at his right shoulder. She ignored him and kneeled beside Ross. She laid her free hand on his chest and was relieved to find his heart beating steadily and strongly beneath her fingers. The tears fell as she bent to rain kisses over his face.

“What about me? Do I get a kiss?”

Lifting her head, and with a moist glare, Jessica aimed the Beretta at Rafferty. “How about I laser beam your ass into hell?” Then, and as swiftly as it had ignited, her temper cooled. Turning the gun around, she passed it to him butt first, a sincere smile brightening her features. “I’m sorry, Scott.”

“I don’t believe it. You called me Scott without being prompted.”

“It’s the least I could do. You saved Ross’s life.” She took serious note of his grimace. “So ghosts do feel pain.”

For a moment, he gave her a blank look before he threw his head back and laughed. “I’m no ghost!”

“But your whole aura is chilly. And your fingers are icy.”

“I suffer with Raynaud’s, a circulation problem. You know, cold hands and feet? I refuse to take medication. Which can be beneficial. Particularly when you need to convince a certain someone”—He gestured to Ross, who had begun to stir—“that ghosts really do exist.”

“Oh, he believes all right.” Jessica gave Rafferty another sincere smile. “You’ve got a lot more explaining to do.”

“I know. And I’ll tell you everything once he’s fully conscious.”

* * * *

No bright light. No tunnel. No long-dead relatives to greet him. No angels. No harps. No white, puffy clouds. And where were his feathery wings and gold halo? To say Ross was pissed was an understatement. Heaven was a scam. Though saying that, it wasn’t a bad place, not when warm lips were touching his.

“Ross?”

Mmm, now that sounded like Jessica. Funny, those lips felt like Jessica’s, too. Something else occurred to him. His right hand throbbed. If he were dead, should he be feeling pain? He blinked his eyes open. Maybe he was in heaven. It wasn’t Jessica’s face he saw, but the late Mrs. Williamson. Lavender surrounded him.

“Do you like my rug?”

Must be heaven. Still, a strange question to ask on his admission. “Yes. It’s very striking.”

“Then it’s yours.”

Even stranger. “Er, thanks?”

“Ross, who are you talking to?”

Mrs. Williamson and her perfume melted away and deep-blue eyes with glowing amber flecks stared down at him. Jessica. “Tell you later. Are you okay? When Harknett threw you—”

She silenced him with another kiss. “Just more bruises to add to my growing collection. Nothing major. I love you. Together.”

“And I love you. Forever.” With a smile, Ross sat upright and came face-to-face with Rafferty. For the first time since meeting the man, he knew they were on the same side. Knew he could trust him. He located Harknett’s BlackBerry tucked in Jessica’s front jeans pocket and handed it to him.

He slowly got to his feet and lifted his shirt. To his astonishment, his stomach was unmarked. Considering a ghost had just tried to twist his guts inside out, he was quick to class it as a miracle. He then helped Jessica to her feet and tenderly ran his hands down her body.

“Ross, what are you doing? I told you I’m okay.”

“I know,” he murmured, closing his eyes as he lightly kissed her on the forehead. “I just wanted to touch you. Make sure you’re real. Flesh and blood real.” He reopened his eyes and noticed Rafferty’s grimace and the way he clutched at his right shoulder under his suit jacket as he stood up. “Dislocated?”

“No. Just reopened an old wound. It’s nothing.”

“What sort of wound?” Curious, Ross moved Rafferty’s hand away. Blood in the form of thin lines seeped through his shirt. He unbuttoned it for a closer inspection. Behind him, Jessica gasped.

“Are they claw marks?” she asked.

“Nails. Ex-girlfriend liked it wild. If you know what I mean.”

Rafferty’s explanation didn’t fool Ross. Having just fought with one ghost and been given a rug as a present from another, he was willing to believe anything.

Rafferty buttoned his shirt. “I have some explaining to do. Let’s go to the senator’s study. It’ll be more comfortable.”

Once they entered, Rafferty sat behind the leather-topped desk as if he owned it while Jessica perched on one corner. Ross took a position at her side. “Who do you work for? Really. And what’s the story with Harknett?”

“First things first. Give me your right hand.” Rafferty smiled when Ross hesitated for a second before holding his hand out. Removing the bloodied napkin bandage, he examined the wound. “Nasty,” he remarked. He took what looked like a penlight from an inside jacket pocket. Then before Ross’s and Jessica’s astonished eyes, he drew the beam over the gaping flesh, closing the wound. He repeated the procedure on Ross’s palm. He grunted approval at his handiwork, then after giving them a few minutes to get over their shock, stated, “I
am
alive. I
am
a detective in the NYPD. I’m not assigned to any one station though, but work across the entire city. And I’m also the temporary new director of the Federation. North America Division.”

Now why did that sound familiar? Ross frowned as he switched his attention between his healed hand and Rafferty. Then it came to him. The Federation was the file on Harknett’s phone. “The Federation? The Federation of what?”

“Just the Federation. It’s a global organization that tracks, polices and, if need be, eliminates forces, or ghosts if you like, should they even consider using their powers for immoral gain. It usually happens when the person dies, leaving unfinished business. Like Harknett. He’d developed a keen interest in narcotics. However, before he could close a major cocaine deal,
you
put a bullet in his head. Not that I’m blaming you,” Rafferty hastily added when Ross expressed indignation. “You had no idea what was going to happen. I was investigating him and had enough evidence to nail him the day before. I should have made an arrest then.”

On both counts, Ross thought that was the understatement of the century. “What was Meathead’s unfinished business?”

“I think we can safely presume it was you. You did shoot him up the ass before he—”

Not wishing to be reminded of the reason why he shot Meathead, and certain Jessica didn’t either, Ross cut in. “At this moment in time, I believe in just about anything. So does the Federation deal with, you know, vampires? Werewolves?”

Rafferty gave a cryptic smile. “The Federation has many branches.”

Ross wondered which branch Sam Carrick operated from. He slid a sideways glance at Jessica. He sure as hell didn’t want to know, but did she? And though he didn’t want to ask about Carrick, it gnawed at his gut, refusing to be quelled. His mother had managed to bury Carrick, so why couldn’t he? He stared at Rafferty, who was now examining the SIM card from the damaged BlackBerry. Feeling Jessica fondling his ass, he turned to her. “Do you want to know about Carrick?” he mouthed.

She smiled and mouthed back, “No.”

“You say you’re temporary director of the Federation,” Ross continued. “Who did you replace?”

“The senator, of course. This house is our HQ.” Rafferty looked up. “Or rather was our HQ. It ceased being that when he shot and killed his wife. Wonderful woman, Laura. Didn’t deserve to die.”

The wistful tone wasn’t lost on Ross. Nor was it on Jessica, who immediately wondered whether Rafferty had been the “younger model” that Mrs. Williamson was going to leave her husband for. He met her questioning glance with a nod.
Did you love her?
she silently asked.

“Still do.”

Oh, boy, he did have mind-reading properties. “Is that how you knew we were here? Because it’s the Federation’s HQ?”

A sly smile touched Rafferty’s lips. “No. The tracker I put in your Mini.”

Jessica’s eyes widened with surprise. “What? When did you do that?”

“The same night he left that photo on the windscreen,” Ross answered, the fog in his brain beginning to lift. “It was you who threatened Jessica’s life, wasn’t it?”

“I wasn’t threatening her,” Rafferty corrected. “I was warning her.”

Jessica sniffed. “Felt like a threat to me.”

“Did it? Sorry.” Rifling through the desk drawers, Rafferty located an identical BlackBerry, swapped SIM cards and turned it on. While he checked through the various applications, he said to Ross, “That night in Jessica’s apartment I’d only just arrived when I heard you coming up the fire escape behind me. I dived under the bed.”

“Why?”

“Because, Ross…I can call you Ross, can’t I?” Rafferty didn’t wait for an affirmative. “I wanted to know what you were up to. I was surprised you didn’t see me, but then you were more interested in reading Jessica’s mail.”

“Um, Scott, I was just wondering…What’s on that phone that’s so important?” Rafferty’s head snapped up at Jessica’s question. “We couldn’t crack the password, so Ross and I decided to, um…Decided to…”

“Strip wallpaper?” Rafferty offered with a smirk.